Author's Note
This is one of my original stories that I haven't really put onto paper before beyond some concepts I've had.
As some may have noticed, the title is literally 1984, but add 100 years to it, creating a date in the future.
And from the title, I'm sure you guys can assume it's a story that takes place in a dystopia, reminiscent and in reference to 1984.
However, my story will differ from 1984 because 1) I have never read it because I've never gotten access to the copy or watched the movieor have the attention span to read a book, and 2) spoilers for the novel apparently, but while 1984 ends poorly for the protagonist, being only an average person who isn't special nor apart of the actual revolution that eventually after his death overthrows the corrupt dystopia, this story focuses on someone who's "normal" and has no supernatural powers or whatever, who's supposed to eventually overthrow her own corrupt government and change the world.
While the original story, from what I've heard from story analyses and reviews other people have done, the story ends on a dark note of despair, my story is about hope, and how "you don't need superpowers to change the world."
That being said, because this does take place in the future, sci-fi technology exists, and my protagonist essentially has nothing special beyond being smart and crafty to defeat cyborg government assassins with surveillance technology that would completely wipe privacy and liberty from the face of the Earth.
Yeah. I have no idea how she's going to get to that ending I want, but writing isn't something that you have to know every single event that happens in it as if recalling an old story; it can be a journey in of itself as you put your pen on paper -- or fingers on keyboard, in this day and age.
So, I hope you enjoy this journey with me, as we follow a young girl with autism, in a strange, cruel world, and what lessons and experiences that lie in this world.
Maybe we'll learn something from a world which does not exist, and hopefully never will exist.
Chapter 1: 2084
"If you stop acting and thinking like this, and get help, we won't hurt you!"
A monster with artificial armor, holding a tool that can suddenly end heartbeats and dreams with a loud bang, is searching for me.
I remember back when I was 6 years old, and I've began to notice that I was different from the others.
I don't mean that I was physically different or talented; people acted and behaved in ways that didn't make sense for me.
Saying the same words can mean different things, little body movements meant important things, and kids my age weren't subtle to tell me that I was odd.
I wasn't fun to be around because I got angry easily over jokes, or I was boring because I did things on repeat over and over again, and often get really angry when people wanted me to try something new.
And my heart was aching, feeling as if I did something wrong, and the only thing that I noticed and that made sense was that I was different.
In order to belong, I masked myself, acting as characters in television shows, copying others, doing the same things they do, even if they made no sense, in order to not be rejected.
I acted like "Jimmy the Jolly Jaguar," a joyful upbeat cartoon jaguar that other kids, including me, liked a lot.
I smiled a lot, watched and copied other peoples' laughs after a joke had been told, listened to and walked about other peoples' interests, despite not knowing that interest nor having interest in it myself.
It was tiring to put up an act all the time, but people began to like me, sharing food with me and sharing playtime with me.
Eventually, it felt like my own body was on auto-pilot, acting and being normal despite that it wasn't me, and that what the people around me like was just my mask; they don't know who I am.
One day, I remember that there was a fair being held.
Every kid with their parents had to go, and it seemed like fun, with my parents finally having a break from work, and we could spend time together, instead of most of my time being spent with weird government official babysitters, teaching me stuff like "The Sister's word is rule," "The Sister knows and punishes all sins," and "The Sister's morals should be personal laws," things that seemed obvious.
I was told I was a good girl, having learned faster than others. But it didn't feel special to me, because there was something off about that.
"Assail the Acardia" was the name of the fair, where people could see and play games using them.
Acardia are born of humans, and anyone can be them, your friends, teachers, even your own family, but are not human; they're degenerate monsters who rape and kill children like me, and live purely to be evil and hateful, racist and bigoted, with ideas that can infect the vulnerable to believe and eventually become a monster, normalizing a world of monsters.
If anyone encounters one, we need to contact the cops, and don't listen to a single word they say, screaming and shouting over them, until they're removed.
I've never met one, and I've only heard about them in lessons from my classes, so this fair is the first time I'd ever meet one.
When I went with my family, I wanted to have a fun time with them, since I rarely ever got to be with them.
But all I saw was hell.
People who looked like my friends and me, chained up, scars sewed with black string near the neck, naked with skin covered in cuts, scars, bruises, and rotting flesh.
I saw my friends getting whips of different weights, length, and sizes, striking the Acardia and having a contest to see how big of a reaction they could get from them, or if they could kill them in one shot.
In the cartoons, the Acardia were humanoid, deformed, and violent, did evil things which Big Sister rightfully punished them for.
In drawings, they were deformed monsters, horrifying and terrifying.
They were deformed, horrifying, and terrifying.
But not in the way those cartoons had shown.
"Look at me!" Ainsley, a popular student at my school, holds a stick with a sharp weight on its end up to the ceiling, "I'm Tracy, the hero who lets no Acardia avoid their punishment!"
Xe slams that stick into a child Acardia's stomach, leaving a visible reddish-purple mark on its belly, causing it to cough blood from its mouth and curl up in pain.
"Renee the Girlboss, ready to back you up!" Shay, another student, kicks one of those things across the face, but it doesn't react beyond its face having moved from the impact.
Sloan snickers, "Shay, you gotta beat them harder than that if you want to make it react!"
I couldn't help but feel so different from everyone else at that moment.
I know the Acardia are evil, unforgivable, irredeemable, with only forgiveness, redemption, and change given to them by The Sister, but I couldn't help but see what was in front of me.
Other humans brutalizing other humans.
And I couldn't help but smile and join in, grabbing a whip and striking them with all my might.
My body took the whip by itself, and I felt my own soul so far away from my own body.
I felt sick for some reason, even if they're nothing but monsters, to hurt them in this way, so so badly.
The mask I wore was choking me, as if trying to get rid of me.
I was not the body, but some alien observer, and it didn't want to feel sick.
I'm not supposed to feel sick, but instead happiness and joy.
I'm not my body nor my mask.
And I can't help but feel as if I'm a fraud, a failure who can't find joy in hurting these things.
I should find joy in this, but it hurts to smile; my chest hurts as much as my mouth.
Luckily, my father and mother took me to go eat some food.
But I can't help but feel that they'd be disappointed in me if they knew everything I did was fake.
I have my father's laugh, and although everyone finds it funny that I'm able to laugh like he does, I hope that they don't realize everything else has been nothing but fake.
I love my mom's cooking, her headpats and hugs, and my father's books, his games and his hugs, and I don't want to disappoint them after everything they've done for me.
Even if they weren't with me a lot of my life, I still love them, and I don't want to lose their love.
I didn't ask to be born different or abnormal, and I haven't done anything wrong to deserve this either.
Is The Sister cruel? For giving me this... sickness?
Some more years in the future, I remember an Acardia managed to hack all the screens in the country.
It gave a speech about how they weren't evil, how we're all wrong, and how they're humans too.
They showed videos of people being tortured with cuts everywhere and slowly decapitated by Acardia, which were on the news that my parents were watching.
But they said that those weren't people being killed by Acardia, but government officials abusing Acardia, and that they're human too.
It didn't take long for it to be shut down and removed, and cops trying to hunt them down and figure out what went wrong.
I couldn't help but feel like something was wrong, but I couldn't help but feel as if I'm wrong.
When I went to school, it was the talk, and everyone thought it was funny, and didn't care at all, if they even heard it, had their censor sirens gone off.
"Why is it that every time one of those freaks manage to do something like that," Ainsley groans, "they always talk about how they're human?"
"They think for themselves instead of letting The Sister doing it for us," Shay replies with a similar groan, "as if they're smarter and know better than Her."
Xe scoffs, "Imagine trusting one of those freaks to be smarter than Her."
"Speaking of Her, She wants me to be a dancer!" Shay says.
"You got your career chosen before I did?!" Xe says, smiling giddily, "You're so lucky!"
Shay nods. "Mm!"
"Hey everyone!" Ainsley points to Shay, "Zie got hirs career chosen!"
Everyone is often excited to have their career chosen, because it means we can contribute something to the world.
And because Big Sister is the one who chooses our destiny, we know it's the one thing we should and can do.
But I'm not excited like them, because I want to do something I like for my career.
And if I'm given something I hate, I'll be stuck with it forever, like my parents.
They don't say it, but after some time, I notice that their bodies and expressions are often hollow when they say that they enjoy work.
"Get a lot of rest, because tomorrow will be just as busy!" I say to them, despite wanting them to stay with me.
All I can do is be a cheerful girl that's always smiling for them, a perfect daughter that they can be proud of.
"I'm glad my sweet little girl is always so full of joy and life!" My mom ruffles my hair, wide smile on her face.
But that expression is equally as hollow, and I can't help but feel like her life is slowly draining away.
I don't know what'll happen to Shay, but I hope ze'll be happy as hir moves out and becomes a dancer where She needs Shay.
Afterthoughts
You might've noticed that this story is incredibly... you know... weird?
Probably because of all the neo-pronouns I used, and slight wokeness, but don't worry about it too much; You don't need to understand what any of them mean to get the grasp of the story.
That being said, this story takes place in a Dystopia. I'm not sure if anyone has realized the implications of the things that are going on in this world, but I'll explain just in case.
Spoilers will be censored so things will still be a decent surprise, but things like fun-facts won't be.
Anyway, "Acardia" is a term I decided to use when I searched up a word for a synonym for "deformity" or "anomaly" in order to create a new category of groups for humans.
Acardia in-universe are essentially criminals of all kind, seen as immoral monsters who do degenerate things for their own selfishness, and are incapable of the civility of normal people, who obey the thoughts of the ideal Sister.
But Acardia don't truly exist. They're just a group label made up to categorize anyone who goes against the will of The Sister in any slightest of ways, including seeing those She deems as Acardia as human, to empathize and still treat them with empathy. It's a convenient tool to separate people.
I think that's slightly obvious, but it's my commentary on group labels; people don't exist as groups or labels, but as individuals that can't and shouldn't be judged with the group, by the group's entire crimes, as the group. Though ironically, it is such that the citizens of this world wish to be apart of The Sister; individuals whose sole purpose is to exist in a group: The Sister's followers.
Who is The Sister?
I'd say she's similar to Big Brother. She knows all, sees all. She knows what's best for you. She always does.
The world is bright and beautiful because of her, and it's only horrible because you're not like her, but like the Acardia and the uncivilized rabid outside.
She's perfect in every way. An omnipotent, omniscient, benevolent beauty.
But I have my thoughts on that.
What are Dancers?
I think you can figure it out from the job title: They dance. As celebrity child strippers for the public that tend to just be forgotten or disposed of once they're too old and withered to be of any entertainment in any civil sense.
Anyway, hope you all somehow enjoyed that short little story. I think I have a grasp on where I want to go with this story now, thanks to this little adventure, so I'm certainly looking forward to where the next story leads me.
Writing can sometimes just be an adventure. Explore the world you've built, and scribe your journey on stone.
It need not be perfect, just entertaining, insightful, or something else, maybe even nothing.
A work can't be judged until it exists, after all.
This is one of my original stories that I haven't really put onto paper before beyond some concepts I've had.
As some may have noticed, the title is literally 1984, but add 100 years to it, creating a date in the future.
And from the title, I'm sure you guys can assume it's a story that takes place in a dystopia, reminiscent and in reference to 1984.
However, my story will differ from 1984 because 1) I have never read it because I've never gotten access to the copy or watched the movie
While the original story, from what I've heard from story analyses and reviews other people have done, the story ends on a dark note of despair, my story is about hope, and how "you don't need superpowers to change the world."
That being said, because this does take place in the future, sci-fi technology exists, and my protagonist essentially has nothing special beyond being smart and crafty to defeat cyborg government assassins with surveillance technology that would completely wipe privacy and liberty from the face of the Earth.
Yeah. I have no idea how she's going to get to that ending I want, but writing isn't something that you have to know every single event that happens in it as if recalling an old story; it can be a journey in of itself as you put your pen on paper -- or fingers on keyboard, in this day and age.
So, I hope you enjoy this journey with me, as we follow a young girl with autism, in a strange, cruel world, and what lessons and experiences that lie in this world.
Maybe we'll learn something from a world which does not exist, and hopefully never will exist.
Chapter 1: 2084
"If you stop acting and thinking like this, and get help, we won't hurt you!"
A monster with artificial armor, holding a tool that can suddenly end heartbeats and dreams with a loud bang, is searching for me.
I remember back when I was 6 years old, and I've began to notice that I was different from the others.
I don't mean that I was physically different or talented; people acted and behaved in ways that didn't make sense for me.
Saying the same words can mean different things, little body movements meant important things, and kids my age weren't subtle to tell me that I was odd.
I wasn't fun to be around because I got angry easily over jokes, or I was boring because I did things on repeat over and over again, and often get really angry when people wanted me to try something new.
And my heart was aching, feeling as if I did something wrong, and the only thing that I noticed and that made sense was that I was different.
In order to belong, I masked myself, acting as characters in television shows, copying others, doing the same things they do, even if they made no sense, in order to not be rejected.
I acted like "Jimmy the Jolly Jaguar," a joyful upbeat cartoon jaguar that other kids, including me, liked a lot.
I smiled a lot, watched and copied other peoples' laughs after a joke had been told, listened to and walked about other peoples' interests, despite not knowing that interest nor having interest in it myself.
It was tiring to put up an act all the time, but people began to like me, sharing food with me and sharing playtime with me.
Eventually, it felt like my own body was on auto-pilot, acting and being normal despite that it wasn't me, and that what the people around me like was just my mask; they don't know who I am.
One day, I remember that there was a fair being held.
Every kid with their parents had to go, and it seemed like fun, with my parents finally having a break from work, and we could spend time together, instead of most of my time being spent with weird government official babysitters, teaching me stuff like "The Sister's word is rule," "The Sister knows and punishes all sins," and "The Sister's morals should be personal laws," things that seemed obvious.
I was told I was a good girl, having learned faster than others. But it didn't feel special to me, because there was something off about that.
"Assail the Acardia" was the name of the fair, where people could see and play games using them.
Acardia are born of humans, and anyone can be them, your friends, teachers, even your own family, but are not human; they're degenerate monsters who rape and kill children like me, and live purely to be evil and hateful, racist and bigoted, with ideas that can infect the vulnerable to believe and eventually become a monster, normalizing a world of monsters.
If anyone encounters one, we need to contact the cops, and don't listen to a single word they say, screaming and shouting over them, until they're removed.
I've never met one, and I've only heard about them in lessons from my classes, so this fair is the first time I'd ever meet one.
When I went with my family, I wanted to have a fun time with them, since I rarely ever got to be with them.
But all I saw was hell.
People who looked like my friends and me, chained up, scars sewed with black string near the neck, naked with skin covered in cuts, scars, bruises, and rotting flesh.
I saw my friends getting whips of different weights, length, and sizes, striking the Acardia and having a contest to see how big of a reaction they could get from them, or if they could kill them in one shot.
In the cartoons, the Acardia were humanoid, deformed, and violent, did evil things which Big Sister rightfully punished them for.
In drawings, they were deformed monsters, horrifying and terrifying.
They were deformed, horrifying, and terrifying.
But not in the way those cartoons had shown.
"Look at me!" Ainsley, a popular student at my school, holds a stick with a sharp weight on its end up to the ceiling, "I'm Tracy, the hero who lets no Acardia avoid their punishment!"
Xe slams that stick into a child Acardia's stomach, leaving a visible reddish-purple mark on its belly, causing it to cough blood from its mouth and curl up in pain.
"Renee the Girlboss, ready to back you up!" Shay, another student, kicks one of those things across the face, but it doesn't react beyond its face having moved from the impact.
Sloan snickers, "Shay, you gotta beat them harder than that if you want to make it react!"
I couldn't help but feel so different from everyone else at that moment.
I know the Acardia are evil, unforgivable, irredeemable, with only forgiveness, redemption, and change given to them by The Sister, but I couldn't help but see what was in front of me.
Other humans brutalizing other humans.
And I couldn't help but smile and join in, grabbing a whip and striking them with all my might.
My body took the whip by itself, and I felt my own soul so far away from my own body.
I felt sick for some reason, even if they're nothing but monsters, to hurt them in this way, so so badly.
The mask I wore was choking me, as if trying to get rid of me.
I was not the body, but some alien observer, and it didn't want to feel sick.
I'm not supposed to feel sick, but instead happiness and joy.
I'm not my body nor my mask.
And I can't help but feel as if I'm a fraud, a failure who can't find joy in hurting these things.
I should find joy in this, but it hurts to smile; my chest hurts as much as my mouth.
Luckily, my father and mother took me to go eat some food.
But I can't help but feel that they'd be disappointed in me if they knew everything I did was fake.
I have my father's laugh, and although everyone finds it funny that I'm able to laugh like he does, I hope that they don't realize everything else has been nothing but fake.
I love my mom's cooking, her headpats and hugs, and my father's books, his games and his hugs, and I don't want to disappoint them after everything they've done for me.
Even if they weren't with me a lot of my life, I still love them, and I don't want to lose their love.
I didn't ask to be born different or abnormal, and I haven't done anything wrong to deserve this either.
Is The Sister cruel? For giving me this... sickness?
Some more years in the future, I remember an Acardia managed to hack all the screens in the country.
It gave a speech about how they weren't evil, how we're all wrong, and how they're humans too.
They showed videos of people being tortured with cuts everywhere and slowly decapitated by Acardia, which were on the news that my parents were watching.
But they said that those weren't people being killed by Acardia, but government officials abusing Acardia, and that they're human too.
It didn't take long for it to be shut down and removed, and cops trying to hunt them down and figure out what went wrong.
I couldn't help but feel like something was wrong, but I couldn't help but feel as if I'm wrong.
When I went to school, it was the talk, and everyone thought it was funny, and didn't care at all, if they even heard it, had their censor sirens gone off.
"Why is it that every time one of those freaks manage to do something like that," Ainsley groans, "they always talk about how they're human?"
"They think for themselves instead of letting The Sister doing it for us," Shay replies with a similar groan, "as if they're smarter and know better than Her."
Xe scoffs, "Imagine trusting one of those freaks to be smarter than Her."
"Speaking of Her, She wants me to be a dancer!" Shay says.
"You got your career chosen before I did?!" Xe says, smiling giddily, "You're so lucky!"
Shay nods. "Mm!"
"Hey everyone!" Ainsley points to Shay, "Zie got hirs career chosen!"
Everyone is often excited to have their career chosen, because it means we can contribute something to the world.
And because Big Sister is the one who chooses our destiny, we know it's the one thing we should and can do.
But I'm not excited like them, because I want to do something I like for my career.
And if I'm given something I hate, I'll be stuck with it forever, like my parents.
They don't say it, but after some time, I notice that their bodies and expressions are often hollow when they say that they enjoy work.
"Get a lot of rest, because tomorrow will be just as busy!" I say to them, despite wanting them to stay with me.
All I can do is be a cheerful girl that's always smiling for them, a perfect daughter that they can be proud of.
"I'm glad my sweet little girl is always so full of joy and life!" My mom ruffles my hair, wide smile on her face.
But that expression is equally as hollow, and I can't help but feel like her life is slowly draining away.
I don't know what'll happen to Shay, but I hope ze'll be happy as hir moves out and becomes a dancer where She needs Shay.
Afterthoughts
You might've noticed that this story is incredibly... you know... weird?
Probably because of all the neo-pronouns I used, and slight wokeness, but don't worry about it too much; You don't need to understand what any of them mean to get the grasp of the story.
That being said, this story takes place in a Dystopia. I'm not sure if anyone has realized the implications of the things that are going on in this world, but I'll explain just in case.
Spoilers will be censored so things will still be a decent surprise, but things like fun-facts won't be.
Anyway, "Acardia" is a term I decided to use when I searched up a word for a synonym for "deformity" or "anomaly" in order to create a new category of groups for humans.
Acardia in-universe are essentially criminals of all kind, seen as immoral monsters who do degenerate things for their own selfishness, and are incapable of the civility of normal people, who obey the thoughts of the ideal Sister.
But Acardia don't truly exist. They're just a group label made up to categorize anyone who goes against the will of The Sister in any slightest of ways, including seeing those She deems as Acardia as human, to empathize and still treat them with empathy. It's a convenient tool to separate people.
I think that's slightly obvious, but it's my commentary on group labels; people don't exist as groups or labels, but as individuals that can't and shouldn't be judged with the group, by the group's entire crimes, as the group. Though ironically, it is such that the citizens of this world wish to be apart of The Sister; individuals whose sole purpose is to exist in a group: The Sister's followers.
Who is The Sister?
I'd say she's similar to Big Brother. She knows all, sees all. She knows what's best for you. She always does.
The world is bright and beautiful because of her, and it's only horrible because you're not like her, but like the Acardia and the uncivilized rabid outside.
She's perfect in every way. An omnipotent, omniscient, benevolent beauty.
But I have my thoughts on that.
What are Dancers?
I think you can figure it out from the job title: They dance. As celebrity child strippers for the public that tend to just be forgotten or disposed of once they're too old and withered to be of any entertainment in any civil sense.
Anyway, hope you all somehow enjoyed that short little story. I think I have a grasp on where I want to go with this story now, thanks to this little adventure, so I'm certainly looking forward to where the next story leads me.
Writing can sometimes just be an adventure. Explore the world you've built, and scribe your journey on stone.
It need not be perfect, just entertaining, insightful, or something else, maybe even nothing.
A work can't be judged until it exists, after all.
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